


Think I'll Be Late

by ahopper84



Category: Queen (Band)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Dork Lovers Server Challenge, Dork Server Challenge, Friends to Lovers, Kissing, M/M, Misunderstandings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-15
Updated: 2019-04-15
Packaged: 2020-01-13 14:30:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18470860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ahopper84/pseuds/ahopper84





	Think I'll Be Late

Roger groaned as he walked down the hall to the recording studio. He was always ragging on Freddie for being late, so he could only imagine what he'd walk into, nearly an hour past their scheduled time. As he approached the door he heard voices; John's, he recognized instantly, smiling at his unique accent.

“I've never felt this way before,” he said. Roger peered through the small window in the door and saw the bassist on the couch with Freddie, sitting practically in his lap. That in itself wasn't that unusual, but his words, combined with the reddish hue on his cheeks, made Roger pause.

“I can't eat, I can't sleep… Everything I try to write comes out disgustingly sentimental. And I can't … I can't hold it in any longer. I feel I'll burst if I go one more day without speaking my heart.”

“Love will do that to you, dear,” Freddie said, wrapping an arm around John's shoulders. John looked up at him, his expression pained.

“I'm afraid.”

Roger swallowed hard. He'd always had a bit of a crush on his bandmate, but despite his usual unwavering confidence, when it came to John, Roger had the backbone of a cuttlefish. He looked in again, just as Freddie pulled him into his lap, stroking his long hair.

“You've no reason to be afraid, John,” the singer said softly. “Your feelings are… returned.”

“They are?” John asked, and Freddie nodded.

“They are.”

Roger turned away, feeling sick to his stomach. He should have seen it coming, really. Those two had been so close, ever since John joined the band. He felt tears pricking behind his eyes and turned around. They were his friends, and he couldn't be selfish just because he'd lacked the balls to say something sooner. He took a shaky breath and wiped angrily at his eyes, then burst through the door, his eyes down as he all but sprinted to his drums.

“Sorry I'm late, the van was being a bitch. What are we starting with?” He finally glanced up, and breathed a sigh of relief that John was already on his feet; he wasn't quite ready to face them acting on their _mutual_ feelings up close just yet. Brian exited the control booth, giving Roger a quizzical look which went ignored.

No one said anything about what Roger had overheard, so he supposed he should have been grateful, but in a way that was painful too. He knew Freddie and John were close friends, but he'd thought John and him were as well. So why wouldn't John had said something? It would have hurt like hell, of course, but at least he would feel trusted. Now he just felt excluded, not important enough for John to open up to. He wondered if Brian knew.

The day dragged on. Roger knew he was a bit shorter than usual with his bandmates, but he was allowed to have an off day. Brian must've sensed something was wrong, because he didn't even ask for the keys, content to let Roger drive the four of them home.

“You coming over?” Brian asked Deaky, turning in his seat.

“Er… not tonight, sorry. Got a paper to finish.”

The ride was unusually quiet. Roger resisted the urge to glance at the… couple... in the backseat. He wished he could drop Deaky off first, but his and Freddie's (and in practice, Brian's) flat was on the way. He didn't want to be alone with John, not yet. Not until he'd had time to squash any potential jealous tells. All too soon he'd pulled over to let Brian and Freddie out. He considered asking one if them to come with, but he couldn't think of any reasonable excuses. 

John didn't say a word as he slipped into the front seat. Roger wondered if John knew he'd overheard. Maybe he was just emotionally exhausted. Roger didn't know, but as much as he wished he could say he didn't care, he did. To the point of pain, in fact. He had to say something, and so he spent the entire drive to Deaky's dormitory trying to find the right words. In the end, he came up empty-handed.

When Roger had parked the car, neither of them moved. Roger was running out of time. He closed his eyes and swallowed past the lump in his throat.

“You should have told me.”

“Told you what?” John asked, his tone hesitant. 

“I heard what you said, before I came in.” Roger heard John draw in a sharp breath, but he continued. “I'm not… I'm not mad. If you thought I would be, I'm not. I should have seen the signals; maybe I did, and just ignored them. I just…” Roger turned his face further away, wiping at his eyes. The last thing he wanted was to be caught crying.

“I just wish you would've told me. I thought we were friends. I'm ha...happy for you,” he managed to spit out, sounding almost convincing. 

“Roger… what are you talking about?”

“Oh come off it!” Roger snapped in a fit of anger, spinning to glare at Deaky. “You and Freddie! I heard you say how in love with him you are, and heard him say it was mutual.”

John's eyes were wide and brimming with tears, and Roger instantly regretted his outburst. 

“Fuck, John, I’m… I'm sorry. Look, don't cry, please? Don't think I could stand seeing you cry.”

John hid his face in his hands, his shoulders shaking. He said something, but it came out muffled and unintelligible. 

“What was that?” Roger asked, laying a hand on the younger man's shoulder.

“I want talking about Freddie, I was talking about you!” John snapped, then slapped a hand over his mouth, his eyes wide and glassy. “I… I mean…”

Rogers mind went blank. He didn't know what to say, to do, as he tried to process the information. He replayed the eavesdropped conversation, realizing neither one of them had made the subject if John's affections clear. And, he realized with a groan, of course Freddie knew about his crush. He’d never said a word, but Freddie had almost superhuman perception when it came to emotional matters.

“I'll just go,” John said, already reaching for the door, but Roger grabbed his arm.

“Go? Why? John, I'm so fucking sorry I misunderstood. But… well, you heard Freddie,” he said with a nervous chuckle. “Come on, what did he say?”

“That it was… mutual?” John turned slowly, his face bright red. Roger wondered if his was just as bad, or worse. 

“He's not wrong. John… you're a brilliant bassist. And you're smart as a whip, and so witty; I don't know anyone who could keep up with both me _and_ Brian. John, I… I'm pretty sure I've loved you since you walked into that audition.”

John stared at Roger, and he panicked, sure he'd screwed it up somehow. But then John raised a trembling hand to Riger's cheek; Roger covered it with his own, holding his touch firmly.

“I've loved you since I first saw you smile, I think. I just… I never dreamed you'd want someone as plain as me. I'm no rockstar. I don't even sing. I'm just-”

Roger lunged forward, doing what he'd dreamed of for ages, and pressed his lips to Johns. A moment later he felt the other man react, a soft whimper filling the silence between them.

“I love you, Deaky,” Roger sighed, leaning their foreheads together. John sniffled and nodded.

“Love you, Roger.” the two men shared a sigh and smiled at each other.

“Think I'll be late getting back to the flat,” Roger chuckled, pulling John in for another kiss.


End file.
